Under The Knife
by Didders
Summary: The boy was an utter slime ball. Absolutely shameless and arrogant. He needed to be put in his place. If he deserved one, that was. In time he would. Doc would make him if it were the last thing he would ever do.


**_Note from the author:_  
**Hello, hello fellow fanficatiers! I am Didders and this shall be my first fanfiction here on would absolutely love to have reviews on my work, and do not mind some C+C here and there but I truly do not enjoy flamers as I am sure not many authors do either. So if you do decide to leave me a review, please be gentle. :-)

**Warning:**  
Depending on how well this piece does reflects if Didders will continue to work on it. Further fun in later chapters hence the rating. Light BDSM, slight shota/pedophilia, swearing/cursing, Asphyxiophilia, maybe some blood play? Suggestions? Oh, and sadlyI doknow my limits on this site. No worries!

**Disclaimer:**  
I do not own Hellsing and only wish to use its characters to my own sick and twisted needs.

**Word count:** 2677

_Under the knife._

The snap of a latex glove would echo throughout the chemical fragrant lab making metal cry in response to the airs quick reverberation. That dying sound of sharp twanging was almost _ominous_, terrifying the lone silence as if to test or just scare the stillness away completely. A single mechanical flip would then cause a shuddering hum to join the dull sound shock, soft though enough to fill every inch of the quite, spacious area. Flickering light soon accompanied the power of sound, hushing what darkness lie facing its space with artificial sunlight compliments due medical equipment. That light shown brightly on the silver operation table mocking now visible dilation with the synthetic rays of awaiting processes.

"Vhat the _hell_ are you trying to do? _Blind_ me?" that young voice cracked from a respectably hushed bind, obviously annoyed from the painfully quick adjustment of dark to light.

An audible sigh was stifled from what shadows escaped the lights possessive grasp, only the many lenses, which were the single visible feature of where the sound rose from, were willing to catch and mock the brightness with a taunting grin of their uneven, tilted demeanor.

"Now ist not the time to be picky, Varrent Officer…" This voice was deeper, outranking that of the cracked one moments before. Said owner of that voice then stepped forward, scolding gaze hidden by the many pitched lenses; silhouette slowly revealed by toning light.

A very obvious scowl was currently peeling upright towards the young boy awaiting a retaliation. "Nein! You know this hast _nothing_ to do vith _anything_, I vill not agree to do this! I am no lackey soldier shoved to join the dead ranks, so vhy are you treating me like vone!" That same stubborn voice ruptured the dimmed humming as well as closing footsteps; messy golden tresses contrasting the silver on which it was forcibly fanned out upon.

"_Do not be a fool_," the deeper of the two snapped. "Ve haff not taught you to misconstrue any situation like this. You do dangerous vork gathering information for our organization, und the _slightest_ error vould be our failure as vell as yours. Never tvist to vones own vill." He spoke as if he were made to recite rules and regulations only taking the time to reflect on the matter at hand. "The Führer vould not find it funny vone _bit_ might I remind that you decide to practice this behind his back in such a trivial situations as a _mere_ physical."

A curt look frozen out by what looked like aggravation would be directed at the boy with a slight advance, the sudden glare from shifting lenses causing the boy to squint a little, shading his eyes from an already agitated vision.

"Und to vhat _pleasure_ do I haff for actually caring vhat he thinks?" The younger male spit out with a comment back in his contender's face, frowning sourly at the mere thought he should heed such a insignificant warning from that man, let alone the one in front of him.

"I really doubt he vould care about any other physical state let alone _mine_ seeing as how he lets those officers get sauced to their bones at mess hall."

Schrodinger crossed his arms and pressed dry lips together letting a wet tongue glide along them quickly. "His own state even proves against your defense, Doc... There isn't a reason I should be here at all, let alone listen to vhat you have to say." Those moistened lips peeled into a smug smile, sighing out coolly through that curved orifice. A simple expression from the man presented before him would prove yet another verbal victory on the young boys behalf, daring a second thought taken to consider the older man's approach on the insult to their 'leader'.

Doc simply gave a disgusted look, the side of his mouth twitching unconsciously. "Do you think I myself _enjoy_ the fact I haff to _baby-sit_ a vorthless brat-…" He paused due better knowledge. "Shut up und dress down." Doc was obviously not in the mood seeing the tedious work what was already planned ahead. That and the fact this unpleasant wart actually had the power to possibly resign him. Too bad.

Before the examination was even set or scheduled for that matter, a wave of insecure notions and supported evidence would manage to diminish the usually hard exterior known as Millennium, sending the organizations board into a fit of hushed frenzy and mutiny. This, _of course_, ended in another stubbornly set request befalling the orders of Doc for an inspection of traits to be announced.

Granted, this little fact of virus, the cause of what the board thought would trigger a wave of mass rebellion, was hidden by the guise of a usual routine physical for the whole lot of soldiers. Exactly what he wanted. A beautiful distraction for chemical related intoxication thus diminishing any doubt of Millennium's full power and potential from the squadrons. It was what _every_ army needed for a great war. Soldiers willing to throw their lives away for worthless petty battles and even more of them to indebt themselves.

Promises of alcohol and war songs would jest for a merry time when physicals were completed, leaving no suspicion to the very last to get their manual inspection, only another diversion. The very treasured Schrodinger. It was so hard to get another like him. So very hard indeed, and a threat would increase the psyche bond on which Herr Major had – being painfully one-sided – for the werewolf ranked boy.

Seeing fit, Kreig's most trusted 'medical' practitioner was selected for such a job. Such a job to see if anything seemed wrong with the young weapon. Entrusted, Doc would soon be leaden with the life in what he mainly attempted to manipulate on his own… to play the role of '_Children's Doctor_'.

Of course both he and boy were both outraged by this order alike. Doc hadn't agreed to personally give childish 'check-ups' to spoiled minors, let alone ones his great leader favored among the rest of the team, this including himself who he saw was the most trustworthy. Surely the man needed a better suited obsession then this.. this whining whelp who had no shred of respect for him at all! Doc would never agree to such bigotry! Yet here the man was, a pen scrolling the list of required material needing to be looked up, all updates strictly required to be entered in the boys personal file. It was almost too degrading for words. He was more disgusted that he was not permitted to go back on this order.

Shamefully, shaded eyes would soon stop inspecting the long list of jumbled requirements, the chipping ballpoint pen used to scroll these being placed next to the clipboard while Schrodinger would neatly take off his attire leaving only his shorts, just to be stubborn. Of course, the young boy had gone through routine checkups before none of private matter nor great importance knowing the procedure by heart. Dress down, heart rate, writing drabble, then off with him accompanied with a warning of no mischief he would sooner die than pay.

Schrodinger found absolutely no reason in totally baring himself at all for anyone let alone this private session with Doc with only the protection of under garments. The main doctor he usually saw had completely ignored the boys impish ways and continued on with a fearful manner about him. To put it simply, Schrodinger wasn't willing to do anything without a desired outcome. It was only fair. For him at least.

Oblivious to Schrodinger's own action fumbling, Doc would shift the pegs on his glasses, lenses soon shifting to the correct specifications he desired for this type of work. His gaze stopped on the young boy soon after opening a drawer to obtain what tool he needed first. He gave a mock frown and tilted his head some.

"Don't tell me you haff suddenly become _modest_ after all the times you haff done this vith your previous medical inspector?" Doc questioned.

Schrodinger blinked once in a daze towards the question of his own modesty, standing there almost awkwardly. "Nein," he spat out abruptly. "This ist like any other checkup, ja? So I vill not need to fully undress." The boy sounded sure, nodding lightly.

Doc gave a wry smile and held up measuring tape cracking it like a leather belt. "Nein. Ve vill be performing a few more tests and procedures then vhat you are used to vith the others including your measurements." Doc almost sounded cruel. "But firstly, I vill need exactly that. You _are_ a growing boy."

Doc nodded and waved his hand as for Schrodinger to commence in his dress down. Schrodinger simply hissed whispering German profanities as he quickly undid his belt and pushed down those snug shorts, the garment falling to a pair of thin ankles. Shoes were not needed and had already been taken into account, so that was not to worry. Doc nodded, smirking some at the obedience of the boy as he quickly added the shorts to where he set the rest of his attire. It was a fine thing he was listening well or this job would have been more hell on Doc then the boy. He was sure the little snot would get his kicks somehow.

A gloved hand soon waved the boy closer after he readied everything. "Now ve shall commence in your measurements. Please refrain from moving. I need _specific_ lengths." Doc grasped the tip of the tape between his thumb and index finger; pulling some free tape to about seventeen inches. "I am going to do this tvice. Vonce vith inches, und the second vith centimeters for a direct measurement." It was only fair to let the boy know what he was in for. It would be a chore for the both of them and Schrodinger wasn't the most patient person in the word to deal with.

Tape in hand, Doc carefully bent down matching his shielded eyes to the boys. "Lift your arms," he commanded.

Schrodinger glared into the dulled lenses. "This ist stupi-.."

Doc's right index finger abruptly hushed the boy, pressing firmly on his lips. "Do not be difficult. The sooner you obey the soon this vill be over vith, ja?"

The boy raised an eyebrow and pushed the older males finger away with a shove, glaring at him stubbornly. "Ja, ja," Schrodinger breathed out.

Doc ignored him, tightening the tape while two scrawny arms were raised. "Gut," he finally responded, the same tape loosely placed around the boys upper torso finding the direct measurement of his chest.

After pinpointing the direct measurement, Doc would soon seek out his clipboard whispering muffled measurements to himself while writing a few notes to fill a fine amount of the paper. Again he would measure the same place but in a different scale resuming this pattern while moving to Schrodinger's chest line and waist, again wrapping the tape around him loosely then tightening it for a direct measurement.

Schrodinger showed signs of waning interest as the process commenced into a rather monotonous manor, growing ever tedious as the time grew longer. Arm span, shoulder to shoulder, waist to neck… it was as if he were being tailored for a new uniform. Two for that matter with every measurement taken.

After what seemed like an hour of adjusting tape and two for writing notes, the boy shifted a bored gaze to a currently standing Doc who had just finished writing a total of pages Schrodinger had no clue of. " Now… " Doc examined the items on his paper upon finishing the first set of measurements. "I need you to sit."

A gloved hand patted lightly on a metal table, much resembling a strong slab of smooth silver, while wondering eyes reread his own notes and references. Schrodinger scoffed and walked to the medical table all the same to hop up upon the neglected metal. In a matter of seconds his back immediately arched as he took a seat, hairs pricking on the back of his neck. The boy yelped, hugging himself tightly. Doc about dropped the clipboard at the sound, eyeing him oddly.

"Vat in the _hell_ vas that for?"

Schrodinger whimpered lightly, turning to him. " _S-… Sehr c-cold_!" The boy hissed angrily.

Doc sighed lightly and walked over to him. "Is that all..? Insolent velp. You vill get used to it. Do not scare me vith your petty complaints."

Schrodinger glared at him. "Vhy don't _you_ try sitting on this slab uff ice naked!" he barked irritably only leaving Doc to grin at him.

"Oh, but I haff." And with that, Doc knelt fully, grabbing either one of Schrodinger's trembling legs and spreading them with ease. The boy inhaled sharply, icy eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Vhat are you _doing_!" His voice cracked considerably.

"Silence. I need to finish my measurements." Doc sported an uptight look as he spoke.

The tape was gripped in his right hand while the left one grasped the boys ankle to straighten his leg, measuring from his calve to foot. Again he would write the results down on the clipboard commencing with the next measurement and moving on to the next leg.

Schrodinger watched weakly as his, new realization of tender legs, were touched so shamelessly, glaring in tired disgust at the feel of those rubber clad fingers brushing against his flesh. It made his skin crawl. Schrodinger's blond eyebrows furrowed in a worried fashion, closing his eyes to ignore the way he was reacting. It made him want to hack up.

"Can ve please shtop now?" The boys hands were clenched white-knuckled on the cold silver slab of a table.

Doc paused to look up meeting an unusually bothered expression. He raised an eyebrow. "Please..? Vhat..?"

Schrodinger's eyes shot open to find a confused Doc sitting between his legs, rephrasing his request. Doc smiled with a sick look of what seemed likereassurance Schrodinger was not at all used to. At least Doc knew _one_ thing that could bother the boy. Now he just had to narrow down if it were either the thinning patience or something else.

"I am almost done vith the measurements. Please be somevhat patient vhile I finish up here."

It was a little strange for the boy to be reacting like this, though Doc really never had measured him all that often, with exceptions of his first procedure with him. There was always something he had to be tender about. To be discreet and meekly paw at the situation with no initial intentions not that he bore any, really. The boy was an utter slime ball. Absolutely shameless and arrogant. He needed to be put in his place. If he deserved one, that was.

That was it. He had one but he didn't know it. Or he did not know it quite yet.

In time he would. Doc would make him if it were the last thing he would ever do.

-----  
Please do review! The story depends on if I should continue into diplomatic smut or if it's a no-go:D  
And a big thank you to Kainonis' beta wonders! I appreciate it very much!


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